


Through With Life and All Hope is Lost

by Domina_Temporis



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Apocalypse, Aziraphale Is Soft, Character Study, Choosing Sides, M/M, because that's what I do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 23:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19486477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domina_Temporis/pseuds/Domina_Temporis
Summary: The journey of one timid, nervous, hopelessly in love angel from the beginning of the Apocalypse until he's finally ready to pick a side.





	Through With Life and All Hope is Lost

**Author's Note:**

> This was born after hours of reading fic about Aziraphale apologizing/making amends for not going along with Crowley the whole way through (which, yes, is true in the end). But on my third rewatch, I noticed Crowley doesn't exactly have a plan other than the one Aziraphale refused to go along with from the beginning and then switched immediately from "we need to save the Earth" to "I don't care if the Earth burns as long as you and I are safe." 
> 
> So from Aziraphale's perspective, it probably didn't seem like the greatest idea to go along with Crowley and I can see why he felt he had to handle everything himself the only way he knew how. And then I ended up writing 3000+ words about it, because why not?
> 
> Title from Friends Will Be Friends

Some warning, Aziraphale thinks, would have been nice. And by warning, he does not mean Crowley calling him out of nowhere after closing hours saying only that they needed to talk about Armageddon.

Then again, he did have some warning, didn’t he? Gabriel had appeared earlier that day, for the first time in decades. But really, how was Aziraphale supposed to know what Gabriel was talking about? He hadn’t said anything outright; instead hinting around the subject and being rather annoying about sushi until Aziraphale could only guess at what he meant

Still, it probably should have been obvious if he’d thought about it. He simply didn’t want to. He likes Earth. After 6000 years he has things set up for himself very nicely and he’s finally, finally, settling into the idea that maybe head office isn’t checking up on every little thing he’s doing. They’ve never noticed when he’s done the odd temptation. Never even realized he’d personally blessed holy water and given it to Hell’s most famous Earth operative. In fact, they sometimes seem more concerned with the number of “frivolous” miracles he performs than actual temptations, which just seems sort of backwards to Aziraphale. Crowley had scoffed, and laughed, in that order, when Aziraphale had pointed it out once, and said something about being holier-than-thou. Aziraphale had been drunk enough at the time that he’d nodded knowingly, rolling his eyes, causing Crowley to grin that small, fond grin of his that he only uses when he’s drunk.

Aziraphale loves that grin.

Anyway, now that he knows Armageddon is, in fact, happening, he’s rather struggling to comprehend the enormity of it. After all, yesterday he’d been planning to do nothing more exciting than open his bookshop two hours late, close again for lunch and then go to that lovely little tea shop for dinner. Instead, he’s spent the day with Crowley following him around insisting they have to stop the Apocalypse (somehow, he’s got himself the job of watching over the young Antichrist until he turns 11. Aziraphale isn’t sure how that happened other than Crowley taking credit for World War II).

He’s surprised Crowley is so openly defying Hell’s plan. He’s said many times that Hell will not only discorporate him, but destroy him completely if he didn’t go along with their orders. He seems not even to be thinking about that right now. Aziraphale can’t help but think about it, for both of them. He isn’t sure what Gabriel and Michael will do to him, but he’s sure it won’t be pleasant. A demotion, perhaps. A forced return to Heaven. Their judgment, which he’s seen enough of already to last him another six thousand years. Probably worse than he can imagine. No, he can’t go along with what Crowley’s suggesting. Crowley might be willing to rebel completely - after all, that is how he got where he is - but Aziraphale can’t. No angel has defied Heaven since, well, Lucifer. They all saw how that ended.

But, on the other hand, Crowley’s right, and the end of the Earth will mean the end of Aziraphale’s nice little network of restaurants and the bookshop he’s curated almost to perfection (he can, after all, always add more books) and everything else he loves about Earth. All those people...would it really be so high a price, to Fall to save the world?

Aziraphale shakes his head to himself. There isn’t anything he can do about it. The moment Heaven gets word that he’s teamed up with a demon...well, his life will be over. It would never work. There’s nothing they can do.

But then Crowley comes up with the plan to influence the Antichrist together, and that...well, that could work. It would be the same as they’ve always done, Crowley tempting and Aziraphale thwarting, just for higher stakes. No one would even notice. Aziraphale agrees, still somewhat hesitant, but he doesn’t want the Earth to be destroyed. There’s still so much of it he’s enjoying and most of all he’s enjoying Crowley being here, drunk in his back room.

That certainly won’t happen after Armageddon. Crowley hadn’t said it aloud but when he said they’d have to deal with eternity he meant that they’d be dealing with it separately; him in Hell and Aziraphale in Heaven. Crowley hates Hell and well, he was right when he said an eternity in Heaven would be rather dull. No one eats or drinks in Heaven, and Aziraphale certainly doesn’t relish The Sound of Music being the only musical anyone knows. Everything he enjoys would be considered too...interesting, really, for the heavenly hosts. Aziraphale is willing to admit only to himself that they really are all rather dull people. Certainly not as interesting as a certain demon he could mention.

After all this time, Aziraphale doesn’t quite know how to be without Crowley opposite him anymore. He supposes it’s selfish of him, but he doesn’t want to lose that either. 

So Aziraphale starts his cover job as a gardener (no, he’s still not sure how he, of the two of them, ended up as the gardener). In some ways, he thoroughly enjoys it. He’s used to running into Crowley more and more often as the years go by, but now they’re at the same house every day and are going out to dinner every night afterward. Sometimes, they meet for breakfast in the morning. Aziraphale likes seeing Crowley this much; he can’t deny it. He suspects Crowley likes it too, though they never say it. They can’t. The price they pay for spending so much time together is having to be even more guarded about it than usual. Aziraphale keeps having to drop in little mentions of Crowley’s demonic nature, more often and more pointed than the playful jabs they’re accustomed to throwing at each other. Gabriel and Michael are aware of how close he is in proximity to Crowley and could be watching. He’s hoping to throw them off the scent, so to speak, so they don’t realize he feels exactly the opposite. Crowley hardly acts any different, and Aziraphale always envies him. Hell has never checked up on him very closely, mostly because they don’t understand half of what he does on Earth anyway. Also because he lies to them. It’s not as if Aziraphale hasn’t been lying to Heaven all these years; about thwarting Crowley and not doing temptations, but they’re more lies of omission than anything else, and they’re covering up relatively small infractions. Saying outright to Heaven that he’s thwarting Crowley while they’re in fact working together...no, if Aziraphale tried, he’ll give away the whole rule. The thought of how much trouble he’ll be in if he’s found out now throws him into so much anxiety he needs to make himself a very large cup of cocoa to relax.

Overall though, the entire ordeal is exhausting. They were never exactly relaxed before, but they’re on their guard constantly now, knowing that if they fail everything will burn at the end. Aziraphale finds he almost can’t wait for the eleven years to end, until he remembers that if they fail, all that will mean is the end of the world. This inevitably throws him into a cycle of worry that he can’t control. The best Aziraphale can hope for, in that case, is a return to Heaven. If he survives the final battle, that is. He swallows nervously. He’s not a natural fighter, and he doesn’t think he could kill anything even in pitched battle. Then he wonders, briefly, what he would do if he meets Crowley on the battlefield, before recoiling with horror. They would be enemies, expected to kill each other. If it comes to it, he thinks he might just step off to the side and watch over Crowley as best he can, keeping any blows from hitting him. But even if they survive that, they’ll be separated. Crowley will go back to Hell (which will probably be destroyed in the end anyway, and then what will happen to him?) and Aziraphale will go back to Heaven. For eternity.

No, he simply can’t do that. But if they don’t fail, their prospects are no better. Hell is likely to burn Crowley alive in holy water if they realize he’s been working against their plan. Heaven...if they let Aziraphale live, they’ll keep him under such close watch that he’ll be trapped forever, and he’s quickly starting to feel as if they have no way out. They’ll save the world if they succeed, but it will be at the cost of the comfortable push-and-pull they’ve developed over the years. Either way, they’ll be the ones who lose.

Just now that Aziraphale, finally, after these eleven years where they were so much closer, might finally be ready for more. 

The outcome Aziraphale never saw coming was the one where they were wrong to start with. The Antichrist isn’t the American boy they’ve been guiding for the past 11 years. In fact, no one knows who the Antichrist is, and by now Aziraphale is in a full panic. He’s been trying to stop the Apocalypse for eleven years, in some desperate hope that he and Crowley might survive it together and now it seems all but inevitable. The world destroyed, both their head offices furious and ready to fight. The future of the Earth, never mind their own personal futures, is disappearing quicker than Aziraphale can say “sushi.”

Crowley, of course, keeps blindly insisting that they can stop it and Aziraphale is so panicked that he goes along, knowing that there’s no way they won’t be found out now. Heaven will know he’s been working with a demon, Hell will realize Crowley messed up the delivery of the Antichrist and has been working with an angel. They’ll both be punished; there doesn’t seem to be a way to avoid it anymore. But, Aziraphale thinks, they have to try. 

Except it’s obvious that while Crowley may not have given up, he doesn’t exactly have a plan anymore and Aziraphale hates working without a plan. He doesn’t know what Crowley intends to do if they do manage to find the Antichrist. He doesn’t know what they possibly can do, aside from...no, he’s not killing any children. The fact that Crowley even suggested it shows, to Aziraphale, that he’s desperate and doesn’t really know what to do either.

Aziraphale isn’t used to that. Crowley always knows what to do, and his desperation makes everything seem completely hopeless. They spent the whole day searching fruitlessly only for Aziraphale to stumble on the Antichrist thanks to an accident. Strangely, this makes him even more panicked. He should tell Crowley but...Crowley wants to kill the Antichrist, and Aziraphale won’t do that. But if Crowley does it, he’ll be destroyed by Hell for going against the plan. There has to be another way, but he just can’t see it. Aziraphale doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t have a plan. He finally settles on reporting back to head office - he’s been doing that all along, and they’ll expect it. Might as well make sure they don’t get suspicious. Maybe they’ll be able to do something with what he’s found out, and he and Crowley can get on with their lives.

But Aziraphale can tell immediately that Heaven doesn’t believe him. After he gets back to Earth all he can think about is how he messed up his meeting with Gabriel and the other archangels. Perhaps if he hadn’t babbled so much, gone off on so many tangents, they would have listened. They just make him so nervous. (Unbidden, the thought appears in his head that Crowley always looks fond of him when he starts to babble, no matter how hard he tries to hide it). He’s just glad he noticed the gleam in Gabriel’s eye that make him doubt that they’ll actually kill the Antichrist if he tells them. Aziraphale abruptly says he needs to find more information, suddenly realizing that if Heaven (and Hell) doesn’t know where the Antichrist is then Armageddon can’t actually start and decided to keep an eye on the boy instead of telling them what he knew. 

He’s bought some time, he hopes. But his only option, as he sees it, is to try and convince Gabriel and Sandalphon that they’re wrong. The thought is terrifying - he’s spent centuries avoiding the archangels as much as he can, and he wishes again that Crowley’s original idea had worked. But now that it’s so close, if Gabriel finds out he’s essentially gone rogue with a demon...they won’t have a chance.

Aziraphale tries to hang on to some kind of hope that this can still be stopped. He can’t be the only one who remembers that God once put a rainbow in the sky as a promise that She wouldn’t destroy everyone again, can he? Though God has been silent for centuries; there’s much less flooding and plagues and turning people into salt than there used to be, which Aziraphale is very grateful for. He’d never liked that. Maybe this isn’t actually what She wants and the archangels are wrong. That in itself is terrifying; it’s the sin of Pride, thinking he knows better than the Archangels Gabriel and Michael, but really. If they’re doing this plan on their own then they’re the ones that should be in trouble. Destroying the seven billion people on Earth, all the art and music and beauty of humanity, for no reason at all? But if this isn’t what they’re supposed to be doing, then maybe he has a chance to convince them. Then if Heaven doesn’t turn up for its battle, Hell will have to retreat. They’ll have no reason to blame Crowley for anything. Maybe they can get back to the way they’ve always been. Maybe they can even move a little faster.

It’s not as if Aziraphale is proud of himself for most of the Apocalypse, for all that he did everything he did to make sure he and Crowley had a future. He knows he should have told Crowley everything from the start, but the next time he sees Crowley they have the first actual fight they’ve had since 1862. Aziraphale is getting desperate himself, hoping Crowley has come up with something they can do but instead he’s angrier than Aziraphale has ever seen him, yelling at God, calling all sorts of attention to them and insisting Aziraphale needs to kill the Antichrist. Then he switches immediately, saying things like “we can go off together,” and Aziraphale is shocked. That wasn’t the point. The point was that they were supposed to be saving the Earth, not running away from it to Alpha Centauri where there weren’t any restaurants or musical theatre or people at all and let the Earth burn. He can hardly believe Crowley suggested it. Even if Aziraphale’s immediate instinct is to say, yes, of course, I’ll go anywhere with you. He can’t do that, and he soon comes to his senses just in time to see Crowley stalking away. He swallows the lump in his throat. He’d said all sorts of things he didn’t mean, could never mean, but there’s no time to take them back and Crowley is already gone. Oh, Aziraphale has messed everything up again, just like he did with Gabriel and Michael. Just like he’s always done. But what it means is that he’s even more on his own than he thought. If Crowley’s given up, the only chance they have left is for Aziraphale to convince Heaven to call the whole thing off.

But that fails, too. Every archangel he talks to to refuse to listen. They’re all, inexplicably, looking forward to this war and all he gets out of them is that he has to return to Heaven to join the battle. With the flaming sword he doesn’t have anymore. Aziraphale wonders where he’s gone wrong, even wonders if the Apocalypse might actually be the Plan and therefore something no one was meant to stop. 

That’s when he decides, perhaps too late to make any difference, that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if it’s the Plan, Great or Ineffable; the destruction of the Earth is pointless and cruel, and if that was Heaven’s plan, he doesn’t want any part of it. Or Heaven, anymore, really. Oh, he’s been stupid, all these years, for believing in Heaven, for thinking they’d do the right thing. He couldn’t convince himself that Heaven wanted this war so badly even though they kept saying it. Wars  
are meant to be won, Gabriel says in his head, sounding as gleeful as any demon about the coming death and destruction. Aziraphale can’t even imagine it. 

But this could not be what God wanted. She had promised, Aziraphale thinks to himself. Just because She’s been silent for centuries and the rest of Heaven has obviously forgotten, he hasn’t. Perhaps, he thinks, suddenly hopeful again, he can talk to God. Let Her know that Her angels aren’t listening. If anyone can stop it, She can. As if by a miracle, Crowley returns right then, apologizing and asking Aziraphale to run away to Alpha Centauri again. Aziraphale doesn’t let him see the hope that rises in him because of this, just tries to reassure Crowley that he has a plan. He certainly doesn’t expect Crowley to respond by calling him stupid and yelling at him that he’s leaving, this time apparently for good. Aziraphale can only hope he manages to get through to God in time to stop him. And the Apocalypse, of course.  
It isn’t until the Metatron stares at him and repeats word for word what Gabriel said - wars are meant to be won - that Aziraphale starts to lose hope. Heaven isn’t what he thought it was - no, wanted to believe it was, despite all evidence to the contrary. God is silent, even in the face of total destruction. Aziraphale is on his own. Perhaps he always has been, he realizes.

Except he’s not. Because there’s still Crowley. Because there has always been Crowley.

Crowley, who has totally given up by the time Aziraphale finds him in a bar in Soho, drinking himself to oblivion the same way he did during the Spanish Inquisition. Crowley, who has saved the one book that might be the key to everything, and that, more than anything, tells Aziraphale that maybe, the Great Plan isn’t so unstoppable after all. Crowley, who didn’t go to Alpha Centauri because, though he doesn’t say it, he wouldn’t go without Aziraphale. Crowley, who immediately pulls himself out of his drunken binge and says, wherever you are, I’ll come to you. 

Maybe they still have a chance. It’s not a plan, but then, plans haven’t served Aziraphale very well for the last six thousand years and maybe it’s time to put them aside and try things his way.

Crowley would say it’s free will, angel.

Aziraphale thinks it’s picking a side at last. Their side.


End file.
